Rational
by EroticaImperatrix
Summary: Warhammer 40k verse. Guardsman Istvan has been stationed in an agricultural world teeming with orks. Death, Gore and Sex follow suit. Read at your own risk.


Istvan rubbed his sinuses with his thumbs as he rested on his cot. The pressure relieved some of the pain of his headache. His lasgun was laid across his lap, and his helmet was hing near the tent flaps. He reached into the pack underneath his cot and pulled out a shaving mirror. The man in the mirror had a sharp face and blue irises, but red, tired looking eyes. locks of his wavy brown hair reached his eyebrows, but no further. Istvan stood at roughly 76 imperial inches, and weighed about 180 pounds.  
Without warning, the tent was thrown open; Istvan recoiled at the bright late morning suns. Bear's bulky silhouette cackled roughly at the sight of Istvan hiding his eyes from the light.  
"Bad night to go on a bender with the motorheads, Ace. You sure you drank enough? Looks like at least half of the tanks still have coolant fluid left."  
"Shove it Bear," Istvan grumbled as he staggered towards the painfully illuminated exit. "You're just jealous because you didn't score. That makes what, three weeks dry? Your arm must be pretty tired by now."  
Bear's smirk drooped lower with each word until it became a loathsome scowl. "Big talk for a man who's about to get shot for drinking on duty," Bear growled. "The Inspection starts in forty mikes, so get your arse up and your shit straight before the Comissar removes what few brains you have from that cavern you call a head"  
"Yes, mother dearest."  
With that, Bear exited the tent and left to Emperor-knows-where for forty minutes. Istvan exited his tent, and stuffed his helmet on top of his head. As he squinted across the meadow that lay in all directions save north, he could see that the 7th Elonian PDF was mustering all their might, courage, and showmanship for the Imperial Inspection. Tanks and APC's were already lined up to the north. They sat at the edge of the staging area, a large forest which is believed to house a fair number of feral Orks, with their cannons pointed into the relative gloom. To the East, the hastily erected landing pad was bustling with activity as personnel rushed back and forth, scrambling to prepare for the Planetary Governor's ship. Off to the West, the Vehicle depot seemed comparatively empty, as many of the vehicles have already been deployed to the forest's border.  
Istvan maneuvered himself out of the sea of tents in which he had been standing, and set off towards the vehicle depot to find a quick cure to his crippling hangover. As he traveled across the previously peaceful meadow, the commotion around him continued to grow. Even though the Ork hunt is technically still a week away, the 7th was forced to fully mobilize in anticipation of the inspection. In fact, Istvan wasn't even sure why the Guard had come calling on such short notice. He hadn't heard of any large losses from the front. Although it has been quite a long time since the recruitment ships passed through the system.  
As he passed through the gates of the vehicle depot he was greeted by the din of welding and grinding gears. There were a few of the newly integrated Chimera Assault Tanks were undergoing maintenance. From what he had heard from Leisa, the loading mechanism for the autocannons were jamming too often. Istvan winced at the sharp reports of light and sound that echoed from the welders. He decided that he had better find Leisa. Just then, Leisa disembarked from one of the stationary chimera. Her bright red, short hair made it easy to spot her in a crowd. He waved, and Leisa spotted him and waved back. She jogged towards him, her usual smile growing into a grin as she moved, and when she closed, she wrapped him in her arms.  
"Hey, Ace, it's good to see you again. I forgot to thank you for last night," Leisa whispered.  
"Yeah, same here," Istvan said as he broke the embrace. "Anyway, I need one of those hangover cures again. Muster's in..." He checked his chronometer. "... twenty-five minutes. Can you help?"  
"You know, I'd love to, but they're pretty tough to make."  
"Look, Taxi, do you really want me dead?  
Leisa stopped and crossed her arms for a few seconds. Her strong brown eyes played over his body as he stood at her mercy. "Fine. You had better be worth the trouble, Ace. Follow me back to my quarters."


End file.
